


Tickle My Fancy

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Beard Kink, Bearded Steve Rogers, Didn't even mean for this to go there welp, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fugitive Steve Rogers, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 17:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14573730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: After the fallout from the Sokovia Accords, you’re lying low with some of the others. There are few things to smile about these days, but you’ve found one that tickles your fancy in more ways than one.





	Tickle My Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of Chris Evans’s new look in Infinity War. The world does not deserve him, but we’re sure glad to have him.

You were staring again.

The way he moved was purposeful, like he was a man on a mission, which was fitting for his persona, you supposed. He moved back and forth across the dingy room, stuffing clothes into your bags, most of which were in dire need of washing. The brusque sound of zippers echoed in the small, dimly lit room as you watched from your casual position at the tiny desk off to the wall, silently twirling your spoon in the leftover milk from your cereal. You knew you should’ve been helping, but when you’d announced you were hungry, Steve had insisted on having you fill up your stomach, however temporarily, before you all hit the road again. You’d finished eating minutes ago, and now you were reclined in your seat, observing the spectacle with slow, lazy blinks.

While every part of Steve was a sight to behold, it wasn’t the breadth of his shoulders or the taper of his waist you were admiring this time.

No, this time it was the beard.

The beard was born from equal parts convenience and the need to disappear in a crowd. With the small band of ex-Avengers constantly on the run, Steve simply didn’t have time to shave whenever his stubble grew back in. It wasn’t a necessity, and going incognito was all the better for it. He’d initially tried sticking to his old grooming routine the first few weeks after you’d all fled, but after going through odd arrival and departure times, often stealing through the night to find new accommodations, he quickly realized what a time suck it was.

He usually didn’t allow it to grow too long. During those in-between moments of idleness, he took to trimming. Sometimes you helped. And more often than not, after you helped, you’d push him onto the bed or the nearest somewhat comfortable surface and show him just how much you liked it.

The clincher for you was that it came as a package deal. The hair on his face wasn’t the only thing he let grow out. The locks on top of his head were longer now, easier for you to grasp with quaking fingers as he pounded into you from above.

He looked like a man reborn, and you wanted to be there for every second of the ride.

“You gonna stare all day or you gonna help?” his deep voice rumbled, pulling you into the present. He didn’t look at you as he spoke, his attention on the task in front of him.

You ceased the twirling of your spoon. Of course he’d noticed.

In place of a worded response, you slowly rose from your position. He paid you no mind as you sauntered over to where he stood at the bed and stopped just behind him. He paid you no mind as you placed your hands on his waist and planted a languid kiss through the back of his shirt.

“Babe.” He tried to sound firm, but you knew his tells long by now.

He’d stopped moving by then. You took the hem of his shirt and pulled it up ever so slowly. You swore you could almost feel the light tickle of the fabric like it was brushing across your own skin. Your forehead rested on his spine and you breathed in his masculine scent, the pads of your fingers grazing his skin as they continued their slow ascent. Leaving one hand on the shirt, you moved the other to slide across his front, reveling in the tautness of his abs. From both behind and the front, you could feel the movement of his rapidly growing breaths. The shirt was several inches above his pants when he breathed out your name, and you knew you had him.

Foregoing any further attempts at slow seduction, you raised your head and tugged his shirt up until half of his firm back was exposed to you. As you moved to push it up even higher, he took matters into his own hands and reached back to pull it off entirely. Your mouth was watering and he wasn’t even facing you yet.

“Steve,” you said quietly. The desire was plain in your voice.

Then he was quickly spinning around and bending to take your lips with his. He kissed you with a fervor that never failed to stoke the embers in your core. His large hand cupped the back of your head, holding you in place as he used your mouth to his liking. His other arm, locked around the entirety of your waist, caged you to him and there was no place you would’ve rather been. Even when you had to come up for air, he chased your lips with his, eventually moving his attention to your jaw, then to your neck. With the branding sensation of his eager mouth and the slight prickle from his beard, your eyes had long ago fallen shut in delirium.

You let out a gasp when you were suddenly hauled up, his arm encircling your waist as the other hand cupped your ass. He captured your lips again and you writhed against him, however minute with the way he held you tight. Your hands flew over his hot skin, gripping and squeezing wherever you could grab.

Before you knew it, he was doing a 180 and you opened your eyes in mid-air as you were dropped onto the bed. His eyes followed the movement of your loose breasts under your shirt as you bounced. Bending at the waist, he plundered your mouth again as you ran a hand down his neck, across his chest. Lips still on yours, he pushed you down till your back hit the mattress and he hovered above you. Your legs automatically came around his waist, and the rough friction from the fabric of his pants was nearly enough to push you over the edge.

With circumstances being as they were, you and Steve didn’t often get alone time. Even when you shared a room, which you usually did, there were other pressing concerns that demanded your attention. In short, neither of you’d had the pleasure of a sweet, all-encompassing release in a long time.

He hurriedly rucked up your shirt, exposing your belly to him, and watched raptly as the material swept over your unencumbered breasts. Not even having the patience to fully tear off your shirt, he bunched it up under your chin before diving in. You nearly lurched off the bed from his wet and eager tongue, but his solid mass prevented you from moving more than an inch. Then he was gripping the material of your shirt and wrenching it off entirely. You didn’t even know if you had the presence of mind to be of use in any way.

Looping an arm around your waist, he moved you like a rag doll so that you lay lengthwise in the center of the bed. Still he hovered above, caging you in with his bulging biceps as he rested his forearms on either side. You were completely surrounded by him and you loved every second. Your heels dug into his asscheeks as you whimpered pleadingly.

“Steve.” You clambered for his belt buckle, the hurried clinking sound resonating through the room a harbinger of what was to come. After you finally got it loose, Steve hastily shucked off his pants before you pulled him back on top of you and gripped his cloth-covered ass in your hands. He let out a load groan that flew straight to your core as he ground into you, his lids fluttering shut at the sweet friction.

“Off, take it off,” you breathed out, squirming underneath him and pressing closer. You didn’t even know to what you were referring. Your jeans and underwear, his boxer briefs, all of it. It all needed to come off.

You nearly whined at the loss of contact when he moved away to pop open the button of your jeans. Wriggling, you did your best to aid him as he tugged your jeans off and your underwear along with them. You didn’t care where they ended up when he flung them somewhere behind him. You were free at last.

Biting your lip, you gazed longingly at the significant bulge in his boxer briefs and cupped him. You weren’t alone in loving the sight of your smaller hand doing its best to envelop him. He groaned and immediately curved into you, tugging your teeth from your bottom lip with his own. With his mouth still on yours, you pulled your hand away from his heavy length and yanked down the only thing separating you from him. When that was fully off, you arched into him, pleading wordlessly. The sensation of his bare skin on yours was intoxicating. You never wanted to escape.

Steve then moved down, planting sloppy kisses down your sternum until he reached your belly. His hands palmed your hips with an iron grip and you were anchored yet so far adrift. Your breathing was quick and harsh as his mouth traveled further down and he reached the part of you that wept for his attention. You looked down with heavy eyes and saw how strands of his hair fell across his forehead. The way he looked up at you with his cerulean eyes made you dizzy. Eyes locked on yours, he flicked his tongue out and you moaned as you thrashed out, automatically reaching for his head. Your hands found purchase on his grown locks and you tugged lightly, your heels running rampantly across his back. The rasp of his beard scratched the sensitive skin of your inner thighs where they lay alongside his cheeks.

He dove in with earnest then, kissing and licking his way into you. He spread your folds as he worked and you were hard-pressed not to fall off the bed. You always loved his enthusiasm when he pleasured you like this. But while you loved his mouth and what it could do to you, you were too far gone for foreplay, your core aching in its emptiness. You wanted him in you. You needed it hard and fast and you needed it now.

“Steve, Steve,” you begged, blindly grasping for his face and attempting to pull him up. “Fuck me.”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as he rose. Dropping your thighs, he moved back on top of you, bits of his beard shining with evidence of your desire. The cavewoman in you preened. He teased you with the head of his cock and you whined, pressing your core closer in search of its prize. “God, Steve.” Still he teased, running himself up and down your soaking folds.

With a quick movement he wasn’t expecting, you shoved at his shoulder and managed to get him on his back, rushing to climb on top of him and gripping his cock behind you. His head fell back onto the pillow at your resolute touch and he brought his hands to lock around your hips, giving a firm squeeze. His hair was in disarray, his eyes were half-lidded, his breathing was harsh. He was a masterpiece underneath you.

Without further ado, you placed him at your entrance and slowly sunk down, eyes rolling in the back of your head at the way he filled you up. Every time you took him in, it always felt like too much. But you burned in the exquisite pain. Walls clenching around him, you stayed still for several torturous moments before quickly picking up a rhythm. He maintained his vice grip on your hips as you rode him, settling your hands on his broad chest and loving the way the pure sensation of feeling him channeled through every nerve of your body. Your hands slid down to his abs, then back to his thighs as your neck arched in intense pleasure.

His hands left a blazing trail as they slid up your body. Palming your breasts, he ran his thumbs over your nipples before sliding back down and gripping your waist. His eyes, the eyes you’d seen a million different ways, the eyes you loved, burned through you with his singular gaze. Then, in a dizzying move, he sat up and flipped you both so that he landed back on top.

He crowded you as his biceps fell to either side of your head, the veins in his forearms more pronounced with the way he balled his hands up into fists. “You take me so well,” he whispered. He didn’t give any warning before he shoved even harder into you. All you could do was cry out as you held on for dear life. The backs of your thighs were already aching with the way he pounded viciously into you. Your nails came scratching down his back when he grabbed your arms and threw them over your head. He kept his grip on them and held you in place as he adjusted his position above you, never breaking his rhythm. You’d never tire of how he looked above you like that.

Releasing your arms, his head came down beside yours, his forehead resting near your temple. His harsh pants and grunts went straight to your ear and down to your core. He was in you, above you, around you. He consumed all of your senses. Then he changed the angle and you cried out even louder. For a time the only sounds to be heard were your heavy breathing, your moans and the heavy slapping of skin. He was working you so perfectly. Then his low, breathy voice sounded right next to your ear.

“You gonna come, baby?”

You moaned and gripped his back near his shoulders.

“I feel you squeezing me tight, baby. Fuck, you feel so good. Just let it happen.”

This. This was all you needed. Just you and Steve, climbing to ecstasy before the weight of the world brought you tumbling back down.

He gave another particularly hard thrust.

“Steve, fuck.” Your voice was high and breathy.

“C’mon, baby,” he panted. “Wanna feel you choke my cock.” His thrusts didn’t let up, but you could tell by the way he started to tense up that he was close too. There were often times when you could hardly walk the next day due to his increased stamina. You were sure the only reason he was so close this soon was because you hadn’t been together in a while. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You loved his dirty mouth. You loved that you were the only one who got to hear it.

Then he was sliding a hand between you down to your clit. He could play you like a violin and you relished the thought that he sometimes preened like a peacock at his sexual prowess only in the privacy of your shared moments. No one else knew this side of him, but you did. You knew his other sides too, and you loved all of them.

The finish line was upon you before you knew it. He rubbed away at your clit, murmuring filthy words of encouragement in your ear all the while. It was too much. Every part of you was about to explode, and you welcomed your demise with open arms.

Fingers still on your clit and nose digging into your cheek, Steve gave you several more hard thrusts. You didn’t know which one was your downfall. You cried out unabashedly as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him in a death grip. Your brain flooded with those dearly missed hormones and you swore you were apart from your body at one point. You didn’t know how you were moving, what sounds you were making, and you didn’t care. This was rapture and this was all that mattered.

Then, with a final hard shove, Steve buried himself in you as far as he could go and let out a long, choked groan near your ear. You could have bathed in the sounds he made. You savored the hot sensation of him coating your walls, reiterating that you were his. Your walls continued convulsing all the while, milking him for all he was worth.

Both of your chests were heaving as you came down from your high. He immediately sought your lips, and you shared a sweet kiss with the man who could fuck you six ways from Sunday. After eventually pulling out, he flipped onto his back, dragging you to his side. You had no energy to do anything else.

With no other words spoken between you, you quickly fell asleep where you lay.

When you woke up, sunlight threatened to take over your vision, blocked only by the thick, dusty curtains. You immediately tried to sit up but were hindered by Steve’s heavy arm from behind. You felt utterly boneless. You then noticed you were both under the covers. You must have been really out of it for him to have maneuvered you both without waking you up.

Shaking him gently, you said, “Steve.”

His eyes fluttered open before they landed blearily on you. He tightened his arm around your waist as if to tug you back down before he froze. Then he sat up himself. He looked to the clock on the bedside table. “We should’ve been gone by now.” His voice was rough from sleep.

Running a hand over your head, you asked, “Think the others came by at some point?”

“They must have. We were supposed to meet at 1.”

“The walls are incredibly thin,” you said.

“I think it’s safe to say they left us alone.”

Dropping your hand, you snorted. “I wonder why.” You wanted to feel embarrassed, but you found you didn’t have the capacity to.

Resting an arm on a bent, covered knee, he graced you with a crooked smile. Then his gaze trailed down to your chilly, bare chest before it moved back up to meet yours. The returning heat in his expression was hard to miss.

Who knew when the next time you were going to have this much opportunity to enjoy yourselves was?

You nestled against his side and brushed his hair back with a gentle hand. Then you moved down to his beard, lightly stroking it. “Don’t shave this. At least not for a while. Please?”

“Gee, I would’ve never guessed you liked it.”

Giggling, you pressed a hand to his chest to push him back down onto the bed.

In this life, you were going to make the most of what you could get.


End file.
